ring around her finger Could have been anything any piece shattered on the way Could have been anything anyone she'll take another lover Could have been anything, anything, anything, anything
Vertaling: Black Lab. Niks.
black reebok tennis Niggas fifteen, sixteen, seventeen Slangin' iron from that Josephine through that Melphanine And would do almost anything to prove
My watch is still flooded, 850 for the budget I'm Rugged, cats get gutted, rhyme then stab Send their rusty ass friend to the lab You's a crab, I take
slowly you'll find out cats is unseen like Jarobi and most likely openin doors with the psyche if it's a Mikey, they'll eat anything starving but hack or crush anything
fences... Shangri La... and Jesus, Jesus in a bowl of germs (don't get scared dad...) after all god loves this whole of worms, but hates common black
's like hundreds and hundreds like tens I get paid, Black, but laid back with mild manners When I flip it's the opposite of dark Bruce Banner Out the lab
My watch is still flooded 850 for the budget I'm rugged, cats get gutted, rhyme then stab Send their rusty ass friend to the lab You's a crab, I take
every crime known through the equator They knew I did it (uh-huh) for havin blood on my 'gators My weed'll hit yo' chest like a double barrel gauge an' I'm a black
s why we're sending cats back to the lab, worldwide The microphone's up for grabs That's why we're sending cats back to the lab, Black Thought The microphone
club shake what your mama gave ya, back to the lab I drop the truth, 'cause rhymin' is more than just my craft Or a way to get ass or fast cash or blasted Black
CHORUS Rastafari teach I everything yea ah Never deny yourself for anything Survival is the very thing yea ah Never deny yourself for anything Yea
bags Visualizing Chef in the green Jag's Wait til I get on, the haters gonna hate it In this corner, a rich young don with a crisp lab [Marlena Shaw
we're sending cats back to the lab "Worldwide" The microphone's up for grabs Thats why we're sending cats back to the lab "Black Thought" The microphone
it (uh-huh) for havin blood on my 'gators My weed'll hit yo' chest like a double barrel gauge an' I'm a black grenade that'll blow up in yo' face {*BLAM
it?s due to regulation and higher taxes They ain?t give me no notice, they knocked me off my axis I can?t pay the electric bill, it?s total blackness
crime known thru the equator They knew I did it, for havin' blood on my gators My weed'll hit your chest like a double barrel gauge I'm a black grenade
